


A Beautiful Night

by jjlola99



Category: TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2007 - Fandom
Genre: Action, Attempted Sexual Assault, Earning Respect, Family Fluff, Finding Your Voice, Gen, Sibling Love, Women Being Awesome, cuteness, finding independence, telling people how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12851454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjlola99/pseuds/jjlola99
Summary: Izzy Brenner meets the turtles in the most unexpected way, changing her life forever.





	A Beautiful Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello humans!!!!!
> 
> How long has it been.....6 months?!! God, it feels like 4 years.
> 
> Anyway, here is my third origin story.
> 
> Yes, yes, I know they are all out of order, but I have made sure to label the order in which each story is set.
> 
> This one will have a much lighter tone than the others....and much more fluff ;)
> 
> Jump in and let your imaginations take hold!!! Be free!!!

“And a one-two-three-four, five-six-seven-eight, and a one-two-three-four…”

Arms up, head down, Izzy thought, keeping in rhythm with the chorus of ballet students behind her. “Lean in, head up, and lean-out-once-more…” Miss Florence said with her musical yet commanding voice. Izzy kept in perfect rhythm, craning her neck as far as she could and elegantly dipping her head as she leaned out once more.

“Isabelle! Point your toes! This isn’t a hip-hop class!” Miss Florence barked at her, huffing in a rather dramatic fashion. Izzy corrected herself immediately as she went for the final count of eight, pointing her toes and performing her best pirouette of the routine before finishing in a position four. Students around her immediately collapsed with exhaustion and relief that the lesson was over. Crap, that was hard, Izzy thought to herself, trying to catch her breathe.

“Good job everyone. Curtis, next time, keep your arms loose and relaxed, not rigid and stuck like you’re constipated, its really poor form. Myra, you’re back is still not arched enough in the first set of eight. Ben and Eliza, very good pirouette. Isabelle…”

Izzy snaps her head at the sound of Miss Florence saying her name.

“For God’s sake, loose the jerking movements and belly dancing of your hip-hop classes the moment you step into this studio. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes Miss” was all Izzy could say in reply, staring at the floor as she wiped her blonde bangs from her forehead. The piano solo At The Ivy Gate by Brain Crain came to a jolting stop as Miss Florence’s iPhone was unplugged from the stereo.A sideways glance in her dance instructor’s direction filled Izzy with a whole mixture of emotions.  
Have I offended her or something? I’m always getting picked on far worse than anyone else, Izzy thinks with dismay, facing the reality of her next thought. And yet, I really like her. She’s the best teacher I’ve ever had. So… what am I doing wrong?

Izzy gets her answer when Miss Florence yells her name again from across the room.

“Isabelle! Meet me outside after you change” her instructor shouts, briskly walking out of the studio and leaving Izzy with a sick feeling of dread.

After rushing to get changed appropriately for the cold, overcast afternoon, Izzy makes her way outside, her stomach adrift in a sea of nausea. The biting cold of the air doesn’t help, Izzy resorting to putting her hands in her jacket for warmth. Miss Florence is waiting for her with a cigarette in hand and a pout.  
She’s never without one, Izzy thought, trying to think which one, the pout or the cigarette, her teacher was never seen without.

“Isabelle” Miss Florence greeted her curtly. “Please Miss, call me Izzy” Izzy said, flashing her best smile. “No one calls me Isabelle except my Mum when she’s rambling at me, which is more often than not now that I think about it. But hey, parents what can you-“  
She stopped herself when she realised she was rambling and Miss Florence’s narrowed eyes made her even more squeamish.

“I have seen good things from you in class” she said, Izzy’s hopeful and eager smile returning. “But I have yet to see you act on it and make yourself better.” She blew smoke into the nipping wind. Izzy’s smile falls away at the remark.  
“Miss, I have really been trying. Maybe if you would see me do the routine on my own, without everyone else there-“

“Izzy” Miss Florence cuts her off. “I don’t need to see you on your own to know you will perform the exact same disaster I just witnessed in the studio.” Miss Florence looked out across the car parking lot, not even registering Izzy’s presence. Her voice wouldn’t work, as Izzy tried to say something in reply to her teacher’s shockingly mean comment. “Can you not say anything nice about another human being?” She thought, tears building up.

“Can you not say anything nice about another human being?” Izzy whispered her thought under her breath without thinking.

Miss Florence froze, turning her head slowly, as if not hearing her student correctly.

Realising her mistake too late, Izzy couldn’t stop herself, and began rambling.

“Th-That’s right. Y-you heard m-me.” She stuttered, trying to get her voice under control.  
“Miss, all you have ever done is criticise me. Not once have you said anything encouraging to me. Not. Once. I practise day and night to better myself like you want me to do, and nothing is ever enough. Dancing is my heart and soul and it’s so sad because I am losing my interest in it altogether now because of you.”

Miss Florence’s mouth was gaping open, like she had never been so rudely spoken to in her entire life.

But Izzy wasn’t done, staring down her dance instructor as it all came rushing out.

“I don’t care if you believe berating students is the best way to teach them, it doesn’t work because you’re pushing away perfectly good students because they feel they’re not good enough and that’s also really sad. You’re the best teacher here and I really like your choreography but it’s how you teach that makes me never want to come back. You’re a good teacher Miss Florence, but you’re not a good person.”

Miss Florence’s only reply was to drop her cigarette in shock, stepping back as if bracing for a physical assault.

Izzy looks at her up and down, moving to walk away, but pauses. “Oh, and by the way, hip-hop is a far better form of dance. You want to know why? Because it’s relaxing. You should try it sometime.”

Izzy could only keep her head locked straight at her mother’s approaching 2006 Ford Falcon, quickly marching away from her gobsmacked dance teacher. Oh. My. God. What the hell did I just do?! Izzy’s thoughts screamed at her. Her mind was a mess by the time she reached the car door, her mother and little sister waiting inside.

“Izzy!” Ellie screeched in delight from the back seat. Izzy gave a small, faltering smile. “Hey there, kiddo.”  
Maria Brenner welcomed her daughter with a big smile, and then noticed Izzy’s absent cheeriness and enthusiasm she always carried with her. She sat down in the passengers seat with a thud. “Honey, are you okay?” Her mother’s voice was full of concern and dread.

Izzy closed the door in a hurry, trying not to think about what had just happened too much for fear of having a heart attack. “I’ll explain everything when we get home” she replied, not willing to offer up any more information.

With that, Maria pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, Izzy looking back one last time to see Miss Florence’s face disappearing into the distance.


End file.
